Night Translucent and Vibrating
Looking out the window, listening to the sounds and noises of the city, dreaming, seeing, feeling, missing are the things I like to do. Especially if it’s on a late-summer night when summer’s kissing goodbye and autumn knocks on the door. And busy, busy is the winter cold and snowy, wishing to cover all that lived and hoped with a mantle of white, impenetrable blanket, suffocating life.
Fantasy World
September is a month of ambiguity and translucency – summer still lingers yet autumn whispers in the wind. On a warm September afternoon, I wrote this poem reflecting on the past, the present and the future, the impalpable transition from childhood and innocence to adulthood. And, as it always happens, the more I ask, the more questions I have.
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